


Heat

by lesbiancarisi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alpha!Nick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot, Some Non-con touching, from my AU on tumblr, heat - Freeform, needy baby, omega!sonny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:31:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiancarisi/pseuds/lesbiancarisi
Summary: Sonny goes through a heat with Nick





	1. Pre-Heat

Sonny wakes up with a lot of things he wants. Number One: he wants breakfast. Something filling, maybe bacon and eggs and a little toast? Juice too, that sounds good. Number two: he wants a cool shower. The sheets are stiflingly hot because his body is raising his temperature degree by degree. Number three: he wants to yank the covers away and get his mouth around Nick’s morning wood. It’s solid and warm against his ass, a promise of something more that he wants badly.

 _Nick is asleep_ , he scolds himself, and gets out of bed.  _Breakfast first_.

Taking the time to make breakfast is unappealing, but he knows he’ll need it. Heat will hit him hard tomorrow, or even as soon as tonight. With the way his are, he’ll still have to clock in today, which he wants absolutely no part of. There’s nothing appealing about spending pre-heat in a building full of Alphas who aren’t his while in the next room someone’s reporting a rape. Nick’s going to agree when he wakes up, and like always, will try and convince him to take off an extra day. He doesn’t need one. For the past what, fifteen years? Sixteen? However long he’s been having heats, he’s done it this way rather than try and fight with teachers and ex-bosses for a fourth day.

The bacon sizzling in the pan makes Sonny’s stomach growl. He’s half tempted to pull it out and just eat it, but he knows better. It would be undercooked and his tongue would get burnt. While it cooks, he beats eggs and milk together so that he can make scrambled eggs. His brain is fuzzy enough that he has to think to remember if he’s supposed to season it before he puts it in the pan. Yes, of course. He has a  _duh_  moment. Always cook seasonings in. Any good Omega- hell, any good Italian- knows that.

Just as he’s pouring the mixture into a buttered frying pan, the bedroom door creaks open. Nick must be awake. “Morning,” Sonny calls cheerfully.

“You’re up early. And you’re dropping pheromones everywhere. How far out are you?”

Nick comes into the kitchen and hugs Sonny from behind, tucking his chin over his shoulder.

“Far enough. I can work today,” he says.

It comes across far more defensive than he means for it to. This is where Nick typically goes on his spiel about staying home, but he doesn’t. He seems more peaceful. Maybe it’s because his nose is inches away from one of Sonny’s scent glands, which is a mess of trying to both attract his mate and keep that same mate calm. He’s been told that he’s a powerful drug on days like this.

The spatula scrapes the pan as Sonny stirs the eggs. He switches to the bacon pan to turn the strips over, making the sizzling increase tenfold. His mouth starts watering.

Nick lets go of him and gently pushes him to the side. “I’ll finish cooking, go take your shower and get dressed.”

Thank God for the Alpha that is Nick Amaro.

* * *

At the very least, the morning is uneventful. They go in to work together, with Sonny dressed only in one of Nick’s lightweight button ups and a pair of slacks. The less clothing, the less likely he is to get too overheated. Ideally he’d be at home, naked in bed with Nick. He can’t think about that, it’s time to work.

The moment he’s in the door, Olivia sticks her head out of the office. All eyes turn to him, every Alpha scents the air in interest or crinkles their nose because they have their own omegas at home. “Carisi, desk duty.”

“I know.”

He lets Nick lead him to his desk and sits down. His wrists and his neck get little nips to cover him in Nick’s scent one last time before he’s left alone to do everyone’s paperwork and search databases for the cases at hand. It’s boring work. Busy work. But it’s better than nothing. Plus, every damn Alpha in the place waits on him hand and foot. When he finishes a soda, another takes his place before he even notices the can was emptied. At lunchtime, Nick brings him food from the Italian place he likes. With every shiver, he’s offered jackets and even blankets intended for victims in shock. It’s strange, but not entirely unwelcome as long as everyone’s work gets done.

Nick and Fin are out to execute a search warrant while Amanda and Olivia respond to a call at a hospital at around five in the evening. This is when Sonny normally clocks out, but he decides to wait for someone to get back. They should soon.

Then Sonny’s radio crackles to life on his desk. That’s not unusual, it’s been picking up chatter all day. What is unusual is that’s it’s Nick’s voice behind the static.

“Officer requesting backup. 1653 Seventh. Shots fired. Send a bus.”

There are so many things that could be going wrong.

Desk duty be damned. Sonny sprints to get a vest on, and barely manages to get his phone, badge and gun. Nick needs him, his Alpha needs him. The scent of his distress clouds the air. Heads swivel towards him as he runs to the elevator. He has to get there. Someone grabs his shoulder to stop him and he growls, something that he’s never done before.

“You’re not on active duty,” reminds the uniformed officer, his face tight like he’s trying to stop himself from doing something. “There are already people responding to the call. Stand down, Detective.”

“Let go of me. He needs me.”

He doesn’t listen, just guides Sonny back to his desk. “What he needs is for you to be here, safe and out of the line of fire.”

Rationally, Sonny knows that. Nick doesn’t want him in danger this close to a heat, and he’s liable to be more of a hindrance than a help if he shows up. But emotionally, his entire body screams to go to his mate. The precinct’s emptying fast. Everyone still on duty is on their way to Nick to respond to his call. Only the officer who stopped him remains at his side.

He wants to go. He shouldn’t, but he wants to. The more he thinks about it, the more he knows that he has to stay.

“I’ll stay with you. No offense, but you’ve filled the whole building with your scent, and I don’t want you to have to fight off an aggressive Alpha on your own if one tracks you down.”

“Thanks.”

Sonny crosses his arms on the desk and buries his face in them. There are remnants of Nick’s scent on the shirt. It’s comforting enough to soothe him slightly. He turns his face to the side to look at Nick’s desk. No jacket or pair of gloves left behind. Nothing fresh to smell.

He makes a pitiful whine without meaning to.

The officer’s hand cups the back of his neck and he flinches, but then his index finger and thumb find Sonny’s scent glands and dig into them, forcing him to release more pheromones. Even though they’re intended to calm Alphas, they have the same effect on him this close to heat. Continued pressure prevents him from being upset enough to physically react, even if he can feel himself getting frustrated and wanting to push the man away. Nick. He wants Nick. Breathing deeply, he struggles to pick out the scent of the officer, stronger than everything else. That’s who’s touching him, not his Alpha.

“Stop it,” he manages to say. The hand disappears, but the hazy fog doesn’t. Sonny’s dizzy and he can’t think straight and he just wants Nick to be here to take care of him. Mate. Alpha. “Get away from me.” Still too close. “I said get away!”

Finally, the officer takes several large steps backward and raises his hands in surrender. A glance at the clock says that it’s almost six o’ clock. Had he lost that much time while he was calmed? Why isn’t Nick back yet?

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you make a habit of getting personal with Omegas without their consent?” Sonny hisses.

His phone starts ringing. The screen has Nick’s picture on it. He scrambles to pick it up and answer it.

“Where are you? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Nick says. “I’ll be outside in ten minutes to take you home.”

“Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course. Wait- Sonny, did someone do something?”

Sonny looks at the officer, who has inched closer. “Kind of. I’ll explain later.”

He grabs his things and heads to the elevator without a goodbye. In his ear, he can hear Nick breathing. They don’t have to say anything, just knowing that Nick is alive and okay calms him down more than he’d care to admit. No words, just that proof of life, keeps Sonny sane until Nick’s cab arrives and he gets out to help him in.

The acrid stench of the officer is lingering along his jawline, he can tell by the face Nick makes when he goes to kiss him there. He sees the moment that Nick puts two and two together about why Sonny’s upset.

“Mine,” he says, burying his face in Sonny’s neck to cover up the scent with his own. “My omega.”

“Your omega,” Sonny agrees.

Nick stays that way the entire way home.

* * *

Standing in the shower Sonny hurried into the moment he got home, he realizes how close his heat is to actually hitting. His appetite is starting to wane, and there’s a warm feeling in his stomach that has his dick stirring with interest when he thinks about it. He picks up his soap and squirts a bunch into his hand. Everything from the day needs to be washed away until his own scent is the only one left clinging to his skin. If he wasn’t so worked up, he’d be to exhausted to do anything except collapse into bed with Nick.

 _Nick sleeps in just boxers_ , his brain supplies helpfully.

He remembers the night before, with Nick’s bare chest to his back and their legs tangled together. One of Nick’s arms was over his waist and the other was pillowing his head. Next thing he knows, he’s remembering how he had woken up to Nick being half-hard this morning, and imagining the type of fun they could have had. His soap slick hand trails between his legs and wraps around himself. It’s not even a conscious action, he just does it. He tries breathing through his teeth to keep quiet, but he can’t hold back breathy moans and high pitched whimpers.

“Fuck, Alpha, please,” he mutters.

All he can think about is Nick pinning him down and fucking him hard into the mattress. He wants it. Fuck, he wants it. Badly.

His inability to be quiet must be the reason that Nick comes into the bathroom. Through hooded eyes, Sonny watches his silhouette behind the shower curtain undress. He makes a noise that sounds something like ‘Alpha’ in an effort to get Nick closer, faster.

“I’m right here,” Nick says, pulling back the curtain to step under the spray with Sonny. He drops to his knees on the porcelain basin of the tub and looks up at Sonny through his lashes that are starting to clump together under the spray of the water. It isn’t often that he does this for Sonny. Getting the feeling of his mouth on his dick is usually reserved for special occasions, which makes it feel even better when Nick wraps his lips around the head.

“Fuck.”

Nick looks up at him as he gets one of his hands around the rest, batting Sonny’s out of the way. His tongue dips into the tip, tasting salty precum and humming sinful vibrations. Sonny repeats himself and grabs at Nick’s hair to pull him down farther. He needs, fuck, he needs more and more and he’s already unraveling. His knees are weak and he isn’t sure how much longer he can support himself.

Suddenly Nick pulls off to say, “Look at me, Omega,” and only resumes once Sonny meets his eyes. Now that he’s watching, he can see that Nick is touching himself as he blows him, slow and easy strokes that have Sonny practically drooling with how badly he wants to taste. He wants that  in his mouth, in his ass. The first dribbles of slick start to leak at the thought. His first orgasm of his heat is going to be down his Alpha’s throat. God, that thought alone has him moaning.

Just when he’s getting closer and closer, practically shaking, Nick drops his hand and takes more of Sonny’s cock into his mouth until his nose is buried in the neatly trimmed hair at the base.

“Fuck fuck fuck, Alpha, fuck- so good, fuck, fuck, ah-”

He breaks off in a whine as he comes, head falling back and hitting the wall with a dull thud. At any other time he would feel pain, but not now. His body feels like static and warmth, and next thing he knows, he’s leaning against the wall and trying not to fall over because his legs don’t work.

“Hey, I’ve got you, shh…”

The water shuts off and Nick helps Sonny out of the shower. He dries him off with the fluffy bath towel that Sonny had left on the toilet seat. Relaxing and allowing his Alpha to take care of him makes him content. In the afterglow of an orgasm, his desire to be pushed down and fucked into the mattress until he can’t remember his own fucking name is little more than a dull hum. It’ll come back full force in just a few minutes because he wasn’t knotted.

Nick leads him to the bedroom and pulls him onto the mattress. There’s no need to get dressed since they’re just going to be naked again soon, so they lay down on top of the covers as is. Beneath Sonny, the sheets are damp because he’s leaking slick onto them from a combination of heat and how close he is to his Alpha, his mate. Just smelling him, the familiar ashy tang in the back of his throat, has him drunk on want and need. It’ll be a long night.


	2. Easy Heat

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but Sonny is wide awake. It’s been less than an hour since he crashed with Nick still inside of him. He’s always called the first twenty four hours of full heat his ‘easy heat,’ even though there’s nothing easy about it. The second day is painful, so that would be ‘hard heat,’ he supposes. That’s the extent of his coherent thought because he’s painfully hard already.

He’s already laying on Nick’s chest, so he’s in the perfect position to ride him. Sonny sits up and balances himself by splaying his palms flat over Nick’s pecs. Slowly, he raises himself up so that he’s almost completely empty, and then he slams back down hard. Fuck, that feels good. Nick stirs as his cock starts to harden, but Sonny doesn’t really notice. He wants to be knotted, to be filled with cum and bred and made to be Nick’s in every sense of the term. But rather than be taken, he wants to take. He gets to be in control this time.

“Shit,” Nick mutters, eyes fluttering open. “Good morning to you too.”

Sonny doesn’t say anything in response. He can’t make words or sentences right now, all he can think about is how much he needs this, and how fucking good it feels. Every thought is Alpha, Alpha, mate, mine, Alpha, mine,  _mine_! It takes him a long time to realize that he’s saying it out loud, or that Nick is agreeing with him.

“Yours. My Omega, fuck, you’re so good. So fucking good.”

He keens at the praise, but it cuts short when Nick grabs his waist to help him move. No. No, he’s going to take what he wants, no. Sonny wraps his hands around Nick’s wrists and forces them to rest on either side of his head. Holding them there changes the angle, making it so that every single time he sinks back on Nick’s cock, it brushes along his prostate. It’s good, but not good enough. He meets Nick’s eyes and sees so much in them that he can’t explain. Despite the fact that if he really tried he could free himself, Nick lets Sonny hold him down. His muscles strain with the effort of not fighting back. His Alpha does what he wants and needs. That makes him feel warm and fuzzy. Loved.

Now isn’t the time to be sappy. He has Nick beneath him, inside of him, fuck, he needs this. Everything about this is perfect. If he was a little more present in his mind, he would want to take a picture. The warm light of the bedside lamp sends Nick’s sharp features into high relief, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his entire body. He’s pretty- no, beautiful- and he’s all Sonny’s.

“Alpha, please…” he whines.

“Please what? Tell me what you need.”

He doesn’t know, just that this isn’t enough. His grip on Nick is wavering and he’s struggling to lift himself up enough to be satisfied. Already, his muscles are tired and quivering. This isn’t fair, he shouldn’t be this exhausted this soon. Sonny likes taking control like this more than he thought he would, but he can’t do it.

Nick breaks free of his hold but instead of flipping them over or holding Sonny still so he can fuck him, he props himself up on one elbow to kiss him. “It’s okay. Tell me what you need and it’s yours. I’ve got you, my beautiful Omega.”

“Have to- need- fuck, please, I need it.”

His lips press together in a thin line, but he doesn’t ask again. Instead, Nick gets a tender hold on Sonny’s waist and helps him bounce in his lap. They both know that it’s still not enough, but it eases some of Sonny’s frustration enough for him to calm down and relax. Well, relax as much as he can in the middle of a heat while he’s riding Nick and he can barely form a coherent thought.

He collapses forward onto Nick’s chest. Against his cheek, he can hear the fluttering drumbeat of Nick’s heart. Something deep and primal inside of him loosens at that. A surge of desire rolls over his body, but it does little to make him feel better. He needs something.

“Shh. My Omega. Let me take care of you.” When Nick finally turns them over so that Sonny’s beneath him, he goes limp like a ragdoll. “Tell me what you need.”

“Alpha, please,” he whispers.

Nick bows his head to attach his lips to Sonny’s scent gland. It’s not just a kiss, but it’s not as rough as his usual attacks to mark up his neck. The best way to describe it would be a gentle bite. That must’ve been the problem, because he feels so much calmer now. If he wasn’t so lost in the haze, he might realize that he just needed to release some of the built up pheromones and get the subtle pleasure of being touched there by someone who’s actually his Alpha. He’s always been sensitive there, especially during a heat, but it’s too easy to forget at times.

Now he can pick up Nick’s scent and really inhale it. The smokiness that seems to fill not just his lungs but his heart has him spiraling upwards on how good everything feels. He could live in this moment forever and wouldn’t mind at all. A soft noise of contentment passes from his lips. Nick laughs, light and airy and perfect. This is perfect.

He arches his back when he feels Nick’s knot start to swell to get him deeper. More. More, he needs more, always needs more because he’s closer than he realized but not quite there yet. Half formed begging spills from his mouth that he can’t filter, pleads for more, now, please,  _please_.

It must be enough to get his point across because Nick switches to the other side of his neck and bites down harder than he did before. This time it hurts, but it’s a good hurt. He cries out and grabs at Nick’s back, digging his nails in to have something to hold on to when he comes in spurts all over over his stomach and chest.

“Fuck, Alpha, knot me- please, please, I need- Alpha,” he whines, going limp against the bed.

It takes a few minutes for Nick to hit his own climax, during which Sonny doesn’t do much other than lay there and take it between overstimulated whimpers and little shifts on the bed to guide Nick away from his sensitive prostate. He feels the moment it happens, clenching down around him at the familiar feeling of being filled with cum. Part of him hums happily at the feeling of being knotted, bred.

Nick all but collapses on top of him, nosing against his scent glands once again to keep him calm and prevent him from getting as worked up as he had when he first woke up. He loves being held and cared for like this, not that he’ll ever admit it. If he did, of course Nick would indulge him, but he doesn’t want to make him feel obligated. For now, Sonny pushes that thought aside and drifts off into sleep.

* * *

Sonny wakes up alone. He doesn’t know where Nick is, or why he’s gone, or anything other than the fact that he needs his Alpha and he needs him now. His scent is still fresh, so he hasn’t been gone long, but it doesn’t matter because he’s  _not here._

“Alpha,” he calls, sounding so much more whiny and desperate than he means too. He can be self-conscious about that later, right now he just wants Nick. “Alpha, please!”

No response.

He reluctantly decides to try and solve the problem himself, despite knowing how unlikely it is that he’ll actually be able to do much more than frustrate himself. When he and Nick bonded, he got rid of all of his old toys, so he has nothing big enough to stretch him like his Alpha would. Sonny spreads his legs and trails one of his hands between them. It’s been a long time since he’s done this himself during a heat, so it’s almost surprising how wet he actually is. He’s forgotten the amount of slick he produces.

Right away, he slips two fingers in. He’s still loose enough from having Nick fuck him not too long ago. Nick. Where is he? Just two fingers aren’t enough. He adds a third. Not enough. A fourth. It’s the stretch he craves, but the angle is all wrong. He can’t get them deep enough or move fast enough. He starts crying out pathetically for Nick to come help him, but not once does he get an answer. An unknown amount of time passes like that, needing more without having access. His phone isn’t on the nightstand, so he doesn’t think to search for it or call.

Before this, he’s spent heats alone, which sucked, but he hasn’t done it since he and Nick bonded, or even got together. This is a whole new level of discomfort that’s bordering on pain. The longer he tries to take care of it, the worse it gets. He’s shaking, and every few seconds he feels more nauseous. If he doesn’t stop soon, he might have to lean over the side of the bed and throw up. He’s alone. He needs his Alpha right now. It doesn’t make sense, where would Nick have gone? Why would he break his promise to never leave?

When Nick finally reappears in the doorway, it’s to Sonny on his hands and knees, fucking himself with four fingers and rubbing up against the blankets for friction. Sonny smells him enter the room and growls, but doesn’t still. “Where did you go?”

“I heard screaming, had to check if everything was alright-”

“You left me.”

Nick comes to the edge of the bed and trails tentative fingers down Sonny’s back. “I know, I’m sorry, but I had to-”

“You  _left_  me.”

“Let me show you how sorry I am.”

Sonny has half a mind to tell him to fuck right off, but he can ream Nick out later. Right now, he craves touch, affection. He groans in protest as Nick pulls his fingers out of himself, but the sound cuts short because the blunt tip of his cock presses to Sonny’s hole and he wants-needs- it inside of him now. Nick doesn’t bother to draw this out, pushing in quickly so that the band of his hastily thrown on sweatpants rubs against Sonny’s upper thighs. He curses under his breath. Hearing his voice, having more reassurance that his Alpha is here, soothes all of the remaining anxiety. When Nick starts fucking him, he collapses forward on his chest, arms too weak to support himself anymore.

He curls his fingers in the sheets and turns his head to the side so he can gasp for air. Every time Nick bottoms out he slides up the bed slightly from the force of it. One of Nick’s hands slides up his back and wraps around the back of his neck to hold his head down and trigger his scent to roll off of him in waves. A calm haze settles over his thoughts like a fog. Everything is good, everything is safe.

When he knows that Nick is getting close both from the way that his movements get sloppy and his knot begins to swell, Sonny reaches down to rub against his own cock frantically. He doesn’t have the coordination to do much more, but this is enough. More mindless pleasure.

“Close, Alpha, I need, please, close,” he manages to get out in an effort to warn Nick and to try and tell him that he needs just that little extra push. He needs to feel full. “Please- Alpha, need it!”

Nick shushes him and squeezes tighter around his neck. Some of Nick’s own pheromones finally taint the air. It smells heavy like coffee and feels like dominance and command. The urge to submit buzzes in every cell of Sonny’s body. He doesn’t bother to fight it. Giving in is easy. Every tense muscle relaxes. His hand drops from his dick to the bed. A content hum rises in his throat as his eyes slip shut. While he isn’t quite asleep, he’s completely pliant on the bed for his Alpha to take care of him.

He stays relaxed until Nick’s knot catches and stays, and he comes with a low moan. Sonny doesn’t say anything as he does the same. Not so much as a sigh passes his lips when he dribbles cum pathetically onto the sheets. The bone-tired that settles over him between waves of heat is too much to resist, and coupled with being drunk on Nick’s scent, he goes easily as Nick guides him to lay down and holds him. Sleep pulls at him until he gives in, inhaling the swirl of smells in the room to remind him that his Alpha is here and he’s okay.


	3. Hard Heat

Everything hurts. Sonny’s muscles are tired and sore. His voice is scratchy with overuse. His dick and his hole are red and abused. It all hurts so badly, and to top it all off, his body is still screaming to be knotted. But he can barely move, and he can’t speak loud enough to wake his Alpha up. He hates this because he’s too worn out to do anything on his own, and the most intense part is always on the second day. His scent glands ache from the biting, sucking and touching of the day before, but they’re all he has. In an effort to wake up Nick, he concentrates hard on boosting his scent. Fresh slick is already leaking out around Nick’s soft cock, which should help.

It takes a couple minutes for Nick to actually open his eyes. They had gotten in two solid hours between the last round, but that’s over now. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’m right here.” Nick noses at Sonny’s neck, careful not to be too rough. After a full day, it’s easier to pick up his scent in the room. Whiskey and smoke, a little bit of something like candy, all mixed with the strong coffee of Nick’s dominant pheromones. They only come out when Sonny needs them, during a heat or when he gets too overwhelmed. It’s part of a mutual agreement, because their presence, mixed with the rumble of Nick’s Alpha voice, would make it impossible for Sonny to disobey anything he says. For now, he doesn’t mind the possibility of being commanded. He likes getting to relinquish all the control and all the worry to his Alpha.

Nick pulls out of him and slides down the bed. He pushes between Sonny’s legs and rests his cheek against the sweat and slick sticky skin of his inner thighs. For a few moments he stays like that, inhaling deeply and making Sonny squirm in anticipation. After a full day of a heat, Nick needs longer time before he can fuck again, and his energy needs to be saved for the worst of it all. The solution is that he uses his mouth and hands instead.

“My beautiful Omega,” Nick  sighs, nipping at the juncture of Sonny’s thigh and his crotch to see him jump at the ticklish sensation. “All mine.” He spreads Sonny’s cheeks and drags his fingers through the slick so that he can slip two inside right away. They’ve been together so long that sometimes Sonny thinks that Nick knows his body better than he does. His dexterous fingers have no trouble seeking out the most sensitive spots that have desire curling in his stomach. If he could make a sound, he’d be unable to stop moaning. “So perfect. Fuck, you smell so good-” Nick leans forward and flicks his tongue against Sonny’s hole, causing his whole body to jolt at the unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, sensation. “-Taste even better. Perfect. All mine.”

He nods, but even that small of a movement hurts. God, Sonny wants to sleep for the next twelve years but he needs his Alpha to fuck him, to breed him. What Nick’s doing now feels amazing, but it’s just something to stave off his desperation until Nick can fuck him again. His muscles start to tighten. In response, Nick fills the room with fresh pheromones to help Sonny relax. It should work just as well as it did the night before, but it doesn’t. The need for a knot is too intense, he won’t be able to calm until he gets it.

“Alpha,” he croaks, his voice barely audible and crackling like gravel beneath tennis shoes.

“Right here. I’ve got you.”

“Need-”

“I know. I know, I’ve got you. My Omega.”

His Omega. Sonny loves hearing that. It makes him feel safe, wanted. But he can’t revel in it now, not when he needs Nick so badly. Desperation claws up his throat but gets stuck there because he can barely make a sound. He makes a pathetic, scratchy sound in an effort to make Nick help him. He needs to be knotted, and he needs it now, but he can’t communicate that.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. My Omega, my perfect Omega, I’ll take care of you.”

At this point, Sonny doesn’t think that Nick knows what he’s saying, but he doesn’t mind so long as he gets to feel his Alpha inside of him, breeding him, knotting him, fuck. He wants to cry when Nick’s warmth disappears from between his legs, but the empty feeling doesn’t last long before his legs are guided around Nick’s hips and he feels him pushing in, hard, solid, warm and everything Sonny needs. He presses his head as far back into the pillow as it’ll go, his whole body striving for more, faster, harder, now. His lips are moving but there’s no sound, silent pleading and begging. Alpha, mate, more, please, more, Alpha, fuck. Another sad dribble of thin cum on his stomach from how good it all feels, but he isn’t satisfied yet.

He scrabbles for purchase on Nick’s body, eventually settling in his hair and pulling as hard as his worn muscles will allow. It has to hurt, and Nick inhales sharply at the pain. Sonny can’t bring himself to think about that right now. All that matters is getting knotted. He doesn’t have to tell his Alpha that he wants to hear him talk, because Nick always knows what he wants and needs.

“I’m almost done, Omega. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you take it. You’re doin’ so good for me. My Omega. Perfect. Beautiful. I’ve got you. So good, so fucking good. Breathe.”

Sonny struggles too hard to follow that last instruction and draw humid, scented air into his lungs. It’s so thick he nearly chokes on it. He needs, he needs so badly, and if Nick doesn’t finish soon he’s going to scream. Fuck. His legs tighten around Nick’s waist and he yanks hard at messy black curls as his vision fades to black.

* * *

He wakes up empty and starts crying before he can even process the fact that he’s awake. Want. Want. Need. Alpha, he needs his Alpha. Sonny can’t breathe, can’t do anything but curl in on himself and sob brokenly. Fingers find and cup his face, wipe at his tears. He would be begging if he could talk. Every single millimeter of his body is begging for Alpha. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead and combines with slick to make his thighs and ass sticky and gross. He doesn’t mind being gross, he minds being empty. Sonny needs to be filled right fucking now, but he’s not sure he’d even realize it because all of his nerves are buzzing with fire.

He only notices being filled because it burns to be fucked for what feels like the millionth time in two days. A choked off scream escapes him. It hurts so much, but the very idea of stopping has his heart dropping to his stomach. Strong arms lift him up to sit in his Alpha’s lap, back to his stomach. Hands rough with callouses get a tight grip on his sharp hip bones to hold him completely still as he’s fucked. His head lolls back onto a shoulder. Coffee, whiskey, burning wood, all flood his nose. He can almost taste the scents of his Alpha, his mate, his world. They nearly erase the pain that the heat imposes on his body.

One of the hands leaves his hip to curl around his throat. It’s constricting, but a good constricting. He can submit, give up control of everything, including breathing. The hold is too tight to breathe comfortably, but it makes him feel more alive. Crystalline tears drip from the corners of his eyes as he urges the hand tighter, tighter, tighter until he can barely inhale. He likes it that way.

His own fingers go to use rubbing at and pinching his nipples. They’re usually not the most sensitive, so his Alpha hadn’t thought to touch him there. Right now the nerve endings are on fire. His whine of pleasure dies in his throat. Red and raw, his cock twitches against his stomach. He’d try to touch it if he didn’t know better. Everything is to much and not enough all at once.

“It hurts,” he whines. “Alpha, hurts, help me!”

“I’m trying, I’ve got you. Just relax, Omega, I’ve got you.”

The pitch of his voice is much lower than usual, and his scent is overwhelming. It’s a command. He has to obey. But his body doesn’t want to. Two parts of him are fighting. He’s too tense to do what his Alpha told him, but his every instinct is screaming at him to obey. Sonny cries harder.

Then the friction, the steady pace of being fucked stops. Before he can be asked if he’s alright, he screams that he needs- he needs his Alpha to fucking move. He tries to do it on his own but he’s too exhausted to move on his own. Finally, finally, the angry buzzing command to relax settles down to a dull hum. He’s calming down slowly. One by one, his muscles stop shaking. The tears keep coming, but they’re just a part of heat when he gets desperate. In his broken voice, Sonny hums tiredly.

“There you go. Beautiful, perfect Omega. All mine.”

He nods in agreement and takes a deep breath. Soon his need will build back up if they don’t continue.

His Alpha must be thinking the same thing because just like that, he’s fucking him again. Slower this time, more gentle. It’s less pounding in and more of a gentle roll of the hips, a calming gesture just like everything the last however long had been. The hand that curls back around his neck doesn’t squeeze. It’s a reassuring weight that occasionally slides up to stroke at his scent glands, which despite the shock of pain, makes shivers run through Sonny’s whole body. He clings to his Alpha’s arm and squeezes, the only feat of strength that he’s capable of right now.

Something is building, coiling in Sonny’s stomach that has him struggling to catch his breath. His neck is released despite his protests and his Alpha reaches down to cup his dick and give him a soft surface to grind against. It still hurts, but it feels so fucking good and his squirming gets his Alpha’s cock deeper inside of him. Fuck, so much. Too much. Not enough. Fresh waves of tears drip down his cheeks. He wants, he needs, badly, but he doesn’t know what’s missing or how to get it.

“Shh, I’ve got you.”

Sonny’s back arches so hard he nearly falls from his Alpha’s lap. If he had anything left to give, he’d be coming all over himself. His vision whites out completely. Nerve endings send shocked signals to his brain before going dead. He can’t feel anything in his body except for a dull pain that seems to lay heavy on him like a blanket. It’s like floating, flying. The scent of coffee, ashes and smoke- Alpha- Nick- clouds around him. Safe. Familiar. His.

He comes back to himself slowly. At some point, Nick came and now they’re knitted together. Sonny raises one hand up to cup Nick’s cheek. Stubble scrapes at his palm, but he doesn’t mind. Nick looks worried, but he can’t find the voice to reassure him. He blinks sleepily. Nick holds his face now too, gentle like he’s made of glass.

“Breathe, Omega.”

Command edges into his words, making it easier for Sonny to inhale, exhale, lower his heart rate to as calm as it can get during a heat. Nick feels his forehead.

“You’re cooling off. I think it’s almost over,” he says. “Maybe one or two more rounds, and you’ll be done. Or even this, you got really out of it this time.”

Sonny wants to sleep, but his brain is still humming. He’s too aware of Nick’s presence taking care of him. It’s not that he minds, but it’s a knowledge that sits like a pebble in his spine, an acute awareness that he couldn’t take care of himself. He realizes that since he’s thinking that, he must be at the end of heat, or at the very least close. Thoughts that complex just aren’t possible when his entire focus is on getting fucked. He’s glad the heat’s ending. They’ve always been hard, but this one especially so. Maybe he should be concerned about how much of a toll this one took on him.

“It’s over,” he says, barely even a whisper.

Nick hums and lowers both of them onto the bed so they can relax. The sheets are sticky and gross, and for the first time since heat sank in Sonny realizes and hates it. New covers would be nice, clean and soft beneath him. He wants rest, but not before washing the dried sweat and slick from his body and the grease from his hair. Before he sleeps, he wants that.

“Need-“ is all he can manage to say to explain.

“What do you need?” Nick asks against his neck.

In an effort to explain, Sonny grabs at the blankets and pulls at them unhappily. He doesn’t like messes, Nick knows that, so maybe this will get his point across that he’s lucid enough to care about it.

“Oh. Clean sheets. Yeah, as soon as the knot goes down. You want to get washed up to?”

He hates being talked to like a child, but he can put up with it when he knows it’s because he can’t communicate right now. At least Nick doesn’t talk to him like that all the time. Sonny shuts his eyes to wait until Nick can pick him up and carry him to the bath to clean him up.


	4. Recovery

**Day Four: Recovery  
**

It’s nearly ten in the morning when Sonny wakes up. Last night’s boxers and hoodie have him feeling cozy and safe. Nick isn’t in bed beside him, but his pillow holds his scent. The sound of pots and pans in the kitchen tells him that Nick is trying (and possibly failing) to make breakfast for the two of them. Normally he’d take over, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he can walk right now. His voice is too croaky to call for Nick, but he’ll come back soon.

True to form, Nick comes in a few minutes later carrying a tray of floppy pancakes, messily sliced fruit, and orange juice. Two pills- painkillers, probably- sit beside the juice. “Good morning,” he says, setting the tray on the bed so he has both hands free to open the blinds and let some light in. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. Thanks for the food.”

He waves him off dismissively. Once Sonny sits up and pulls the tray into his lap, Nick eases himself into bed beside him and slides an arm around his shoulders. Sore muscles creak in protest, but Sonny doesn’t mind too much. He’s actually looking forward to a day of relaxing and being taken care of. Nick must’ve eaten as he cooked, a bad habit he has that always means he isn’t hungry by the time the meal is ready. Since his own appetite hasn’t completely returned, and painkillers always soften it, Sonny only manages about half of the breakfast before he can’t stomach any more.

By the time Nick clears his throat to start a conversation, Sonny has mashed his remaining pancake into a crumble. It’s obvious that there’s more bothering him than just residual exhaustion and not being hungry. Part of it lies in the officer who had thought it would be fine to harass him. Another part, his buildup of pheromones. Another is Nick’s abandonment. Last is how he fell so much deeper into inability than he ever has before. All in all, it’s been a really trying heat. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he knows that ignoring it won’t solve the problem.

“I didn’t mean to leave you on the first day, Sonny. I thought you’d be out a while longer, and there was screaming. I had to investigate. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“It’s not just that. But was everything okay?”

Nick looks like he wants to press about the first part, but he answers the question. “Yeah. Just some kids down the hall playing around.”

“Good.”

There’s an unspoken question in the air about what else has Sonny upset, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to lie in bed all day and let Nick take care of him. Nothing sounds more appealing than being pampered with the usual after-heat routine of cuddling, take out, shitty romcoms, and relaxing with his head on Nick’s chest while the tangles are combed from his hair with gentle fingers. None of that is in line with talking about what happened at the precinct and discussing the meaning of his body’s weird reaction to this heat.

He guides Nick’s hand from his waist to his neck instead, just barely brushing his scent gland. Heats always make it tender for a couple days, but it’s nice to feel the slight pressure. Being lucid again makes him remember the precinct. That shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. It’s not like he was actually forced to do something.

“What happened?”

That’s the million dollar question. “Some cop, when you called for backup. He offered to stay with me so I wouldn’t be alone in case someone chased me down because I was so close to heat. Full disclosure, he was an Alpha.” Nick’s fingers twitch, no doubt remembering the residual scent when Sonny got in the cab, but he doesn’t interrupt. “I was really worked up because he wasn’t letting me answer the call. He said you wouldn’t want me to do that. And I was sitting at my desk, I had my head down in my arms because I was wearing your shirt and that helped. Then he- he-“

“What did he do, Sonny?”

Deep breath. In. Out. Sonny reaches over to Nick and wraps a shaking hand around the back of his neck. His thumb and pointer finger dig in right at the line of his jaw.

“I couldn’t move. I- it was like being trapped. My body just relaxed, but I didn’t want it to. It took me almost an hour to fight through it enough to get him off of me. That’s when you called.” He lets go of Nick and tries not to look at the anger written in his face. “He didn’t follow me down because I kept you on the phone.”

“Did he do anything else to you?”

Sonny shakes his head. It had stopped there, but it would have been frighteningly easy for the officer to do more. The way he had been so defenseless… it’s not like Sonny hasn’t used it to his advantage before, but it’s always under his own control. He doesn’t let people touch him there except for Nick. What was done to him, it feels like a violation.

“I know it’s not my fault. I tell that to enough victims everyday. But I still feel gross,” he says. ‘Victims’ tastes bitter in his mouth.

“When we go back in, we’re going straight to Liv.”

He makes a strained hum of approval and then falls into silence. That much talking aggravated his lost voice, but it usually comes back within a couple days anyways. Nick always  makes him tea in the evening after heats. Green, decaf, mixed with a dollop of thick honey. It does wonders, restoring most of Sonny’s voice by the next morning.

With the air cleared, he’s free to set aside his tray and relax into Nick’s side. He’s shirtless, and his skin is smooth, jumpy beneath Sonny’s trailing fingers. For the millionth time, he remembers how ticklish Nick secretly is. He forgets often, because they rarely have time to just relax in bed together. Sonny keeps tracing little circles and lines.

 _My Alpha_ , he thinks to himself fondly.

In response, Nick slips his hand under the hem of Sonny’s sweatshirt to splay over the bare skin of his hip. Closeness like this is exactly what Sonny wants and needs after a heat. To be safe, to be protected. This almost makes him forget about all of his troubles. Sun from the window heats up the back of his neck, but he doesn’t mind. He’s a little chilly anyway. Maybe he can convince Nick to help him take a hot shower. God that would be incredible. And if he’s lucky, he can get some help washing his hair. Nick’s fingers are more careful, more tender than his own.

He’s sleep-drunk in the comfort of bed with Nick, but he can’t quite drift off. It happens sometimes, because he’s high strung on caffeine and stress. What could be stressing him right now, he isn’t sure. Maybe the remainders of the heat, although they normally knock him out. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think.

Sonny stretches his long legs out, easing the tight muscles back to comfort. The TV is off, and the remote’s too far away to turn on their usual routine of comedies and cheesy romance. Silence isn’t necessarily bad, but Sonny doesn’t want to have the ability to dwell on the past couple days right now. Nick, luckily, grabs the remote to turn on the TV to reruns of “The Price is Right.” Normally Sonny would be content to watch, especially when he’s so tired, but it doesn’t sit quite right with him. Nothing does. He’s thinking now, thinking too hard about how often he gets harassed and hurt in this line of work because of his dynamic. It’s not fair.

The gentle pressure of Nick’s hand on his neck becomes too much, his thrum of pain increasing steadily. He carefully shrugs away from the touch, but Nick is all too aware of it all. Sonny pretends not to notice his Alpha’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“I’m just still sore is all.”

Nick gives him a look like he’s fully aware of the fact that Sonny’s bullshitting him right now. This is probably his worst heat, full of emotional turmoil and issues with his scent glands. Fun, isn’t it? And hormonal issues just aren’t something you discuss with your Alpha. It’s weird, taboo, even. He wants nothing more than to forget about it all and wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed and at ease. If he mentions that he’s still hurting from days ago, Nick will want to go to the doctor, and Sonny’s never been a huge fan of the whole ‘poke me with needles until you figure out what’s wrong’ thing.

“Will you be okay for work tomorrow?”

He wants to be. It has to be difficult to be down two detectives for even three days, asking for a fourth would be completely selfish. Still, the very thought of walking back into that building seems impossibly daunting. The longer that Sonny thinks about it, the more obvious it is that the answer to that question is probably no.

“Go back to sleep, Sonny, you need the rest,” Nick says gently. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Although Sonny wants to protest that he’s only been awake for about an hour, he’s well aware of how tired he still is. His heavy eyelids shut easily. Within minutes, he’s once again fast asleep.

* * *

Nick is still in bed this time when Sonny wakes up. The television’s volume is on low, and with his hand not currently playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Sonny’s neck, he’s texting rapid fire to someone. Creases in his brow mean that it’s serious. Sonny shifts to sit up a bit and rest his cheek against Nick’s shoulder. He hums a soft questioning noise. The only response he receives is a distracted kiss to the top of his head. He wants to ask what’s wrong but he knows that Nick won’t tell him. At least not while he’s still in recovery. Five bucks says that it has something to do with the Alpha.

Sonny stays there, not quite asleep and not quite awake for a few minutes before Nick sets his phone aside and kisses him properly. Now a lot closer to normal, Sonny can enjoy it and relish in the feeling of being loved and held. He hates to admit it, but he loves lying in bed with Nick, just being close to him. Every point of contact they share is electric.

“I love you,” Sonny says, pleasantly surprised to find his voice nearly back to normal.

“I love you too. Keep resting, I’ll make us lunch soon.”

* * *

**Day Five: Return**

The rest of the day passes blissfully, uneventful and a welcome respite. By the time next morning, Sonny’s body has almost completely bounced back with the exception of some residual tenderness in his scent glands. He thinks it’s weird, but doesn’t bother bringing it up to Nick. He’s fine. It’s all fine. Sonny has a handle on things, like he always does.

As the two of them are getting ready for the day, buttoning up shirts and tying clever knots in ties, Sonny looks at his reflection. His cheeks have hollowed out slightly, but soon they’ll fill in. The stress of heat fades quickly. So many things flit through his brain at once that he can’t catch and pin down a single thought. All he catches are the “what if”s.

“Liv’s going to keep you on desk duty today,” Nick says, “On account of the stress of the past few days.”

“You don’t need to handle me with kid gloves.”

The bitterness in his tone is enough to make Nick flinch. Sonny immediately feels bad, but he doesn’t apologize. He probably will later tonight anyways.

“I’m sorry. But you do desk duty after a heat most of the time anyways, and this was a rough one.”

Nick smiles at him patiently takes his hand to kiss his scent gland. That one hurts too, but it shouldn’t. He tries to hide his pain, but it shows just long enough to garner a really concerned look. Once Nick lets go, Sonny jerks his arm back to his body and pulls down his sleeve maybe quicker than he should.

His inner hypochondriac tells him he should be worried. His personality tells him he’s overreacting. So all that Sonny does is reach into the little dish on the dresser for his cufflinks to fasten the sleeves of his black coat. Well, it’s really Nick’s. If the scent wasn’t enough, anyone could tell in an instant from the length of it that it belongs to him. A little swell of pride rises at the realization that Nick is putting on one of Sonny’s ties. _Mine_ , just as much as he’s Nick’s.

He feels much better walking out of the house with Nick than he did walking into it before his heat, but there’s still a lot on his shoulders. And all of it can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is coincidentally also @my-sonshine


End file.
